


finding my way (back to you)

by Evoxine



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breathplay, Creampie, Deepthroating, Getting Back Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marking, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Break Up, Semi-Public Sex, romantic rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27574019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evoxine/pseuds/Evoxine
Summary: If you weren't meant for me, why did we fall in love?In which Jungwoo lays eyes on the love of his life for the first time in months after their break-up and finds himself struggling with the flood of emotions that arise after.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Jungwoo
Comments: 33
Kudos: 172





	finding my way (back to you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaemwoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaemwoo/gifts).



> This was meant to be a short pwp and look at how it turned out =.=

Minutes flow by like sludge, thick and heavy, and Jungwoo groans when he finally peels his eyes away from the computer screen to see **00:42** on the clock perched on the edge of his desk. The reports his boss had wanted still aren’t complete, but his eyelids feel like they’re weighed down by ten pound weights and there’s simply no way he can finish this tonight. 

He’ll have to wake up early on a Saturday, goddamnit. 

Lowering the lid of his laptop, Jungwoo stands and counts four cracks of his vertebrae as he straightens. God, he needs a shower. 

The water’s running and the bathroom is filling up with fog – he’s just about to step inside the shower when his phone pings with a message. Praying to all gods above that it isn’t his boss, Jungwoo picks up the phone and chances a look at the screen. 

Johnny?

_yoooo, sorry if i woke you up or anything haha. i’m hosting a get together in a couple of weeks, would love it if you came!_

They haven’t spoken in months, not since…that. 

It had been an amicable, mutual agreement, but the fact remains that they shared a whole lot of friends, and a break-up would inevitably lead to the dissolution of some friendships. Johnny had always been closer to the other, anyway. 

Jungwoo stares at the text for a long time, phone getting progressively wetter as water drums out steady beats on the back of his head. Probably doesn’t help with his impending headache. 

Then he types out a quick _sure, let me know when and where_ and hits send. 

Whatever, he’ll regret it later. 

  
If he’s honest, he didn’t think he would actually end up going. The plan was to wait a week or so before coming up with a plausible excuse for not being able to go, but he’d been too busy (or so he tells himself) to give it much thought. And because he hates being a person who bails at the very last minute, here he is, in the middle of a Whole Foods on a Friday night, hunting down the wine that he knows Johnny likes. 

Nervousness – that’s what he’s feeling. It’s been a while since he’s felt this, that churning in his gut, the uptick of his pulse in his throat. If Johnny had invited him, someone he hadn’t spoken to in a while, wouldn’t it be safe to assume that he had invited the rest of their former group? Of course, there’s always the possibility that _he_ wouldn’t be there, that he would have the sense to decline on the off-chance that Jungwoo decided to go. 

Between the two of them, Jungwoo has always been the more emotional one. When it came to situations concerning feelings, logical thinking would come second, on the heels of whatever his heart decided to do or say. Arguably, that was what led to so many of their problems, to why they found it hard to stay together despite wanting to. 

One thinks with his heart, the other with his head – Jungwoo isn’t surprised that they’d ended up like this. 

Jungwoo finds the wine. He grabs two bottles, then a third one just to be safe. 

At the counter, he lets the cashier engage him in small talk. He pays, picks up the bag of alcohol, and takes a breath. Alright, a ten-minute walk to Johnny’s apartment, then whatever happens after that, happens. 

  
It’s Mark who opens the door. At the sight of his friend, Jungwoo can’t help but smile.

Best friends since university, Mark was one of the few friends that Jungwoo was unwilling to let fall victim to the curse of the break-up. Sure, they might not have the time to meet up as often as they’d like, but they talk regularly and Jungwoo’s pleased to say that they’re as close as ever. 

“I’m surprised you came,” Mark says, then promptly drags him inside. 

Jungwoo takes a quick look around and notes that nothing much has changed since the last time he was here. There’s a new sofa and a few new photographs hung up on the wall, but for the most part, everything is just as he remembers. 

“Oh my god,” he hears, and he looks over to the right to see Donghyuck. “Jungwoo?”

The wine bottles in his hands nearly fall to the ground when Donghyuck launches himself in Jungwoo’s direction, and it’s only thanks to someone’s quick thinking that they don’t shatter all over the floor. Stumbling from the sudden momentum, Jungwoo huffs out a surprised laugh into Donghyuck’s hair and returns the hug.   
  
“Hey man, been a while.” 

“No kidding? The last time I saw you was your birthday.”

Donghyuck releases him and Jungwoo sees Taeyong off to the side, the latter sending him a bright smile that he returns. He’s about to go speak to the man when he notices Taeyong’s gaze flicker to the right for just a split second – it has him turning around. 

There, holding the paper bag of wine bottles, is Jaehyun.

Jungwoo’s heart stops in his throat. 

Ever since the break-up, Jungwoo had painstakingly gone through every single one of their photos together – on his phone as well as those he had framed up in his apartment – and stored them aside. He’d even stopped going onto his social media accounts unless he’s been tagged or linked in something.

As a result, he hasn’t seen Jaehyun’s face in at least half a year. 

The man hasn’t changed much; he’s still as handsome as Jungwoo remembers, from the curve of his cupid’s bow to the soft sharpness of his cheekbones. Ingrained muscle memory rears its head and Jungwoo nearly reaches out to cup the smooth edge of Jaehyun’s jaw. He stops himself just in time, however, because what they were is no more. 

“Hi,” he says, surprised at how even his voice sounds. 

“Hey.” There’s a pregnant pause, in which Jungwoo can feel all eyes on them. Then Jaehyun holds out the bag. “Saved these just in time.” He tilts his chin in Donghyuck’s direction. 

Jungwoo hears what sounds like a weak imitation of a laugh come out of his mouth. “Yeah, yeah you did.”

He takes them from Jaehyun and wills his legs to carry him over to where Johnny is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, clearly watching whatever has just unfolded. 

“Here.” He sets the wine bottles down on the table. “Your favourite, if your preferences haven’t changed.”

  
It seems like a lot of things haven’t changed, if the grip around his hips is any indication. 

In the morning, Jungwoo will wonder how things came to be like this, and he will decide on an answer that consists of the following: booze, a lapse of judgement, and the human tendency to gravitate to happy memories. 

But for now, he’s too caught up in the warmth of Jaehyun’s lips against the line of his throat to pay much attention to _how_ s and _why_ s. At some point through the night, when half of their friends have passed out on the floor and the other half are on their way to doing so, they’d found their way into the guest room.

The mattress is harder than his bed now, than the bed they once shared. 

But the weight on him is the same, as is the way deft fingers undo the buttons of his shirt, then that of his jeans. Everything is just how Jungwoo remembers, despite his best efforts to wipe his mind clean of the man currently mouthing along his jaw. 

Even the way Jaehyun remembers to pull off Jungwoo’s socks before getting down to business is the same. 

It’s easy to forget like this, to forget that their last argument ended up in tears for both parties, to forget that their break-up only consisted of _I think we should_ – and _yeah, I think so too_. It’s easy to forget that the last thing Jaehyun said when he moved the last of his things out of their – now Jungwoo’s – apartment was _I still love you, Jungwoo. May the stars align for us in another lifetime._

So Jungwoo forgets all that and chooses instead to focus on running his fingertips down the front of Jaehyun’s chest, memory serving him well when it comes to the lines of firm muscle tapering off at his waist. It’s pitch dark in the room, a fact that Jungwoo is grateful for, because he can envision the way Jaehyun would be looking down at him.

Eyes dark, pupils blown, lashes skimming along the faint shadows beneath them. Gorgeous. 

Then a warm hand finds its way under a thigh and Jungwoo lifts his hips to let Jaehyun rid him of the rest of his clothes. Is this a mistake? His alcohol-addled brain doesn’t quite know. 

All he knows is that he wants this. Needs this, maybe.

He hears the rustle of fabric as Jaehyun removes the last of his clothing. Automatically, his legs part, and Jaehyun settles into the space between them. 

“If you want to stop,” he begins, sitting back on his heels, “please tell me.”

Jungwoo blinks up at his silhouette. “I don’t.”

A beat, then Jaehyun runs a hand up Jungwoo’s flank and exhales. “Okay.”

Everything happens all too quickly after that. 

One hand remains on the inside of a thigh and the other closes loosely around Jungwoo’s throat, and Jungwoo shuts his eyes in preparation. Sure enough, Jaehyun’s mouth returns to his body, trailing a line from where his thumb is pressed against the back of Jungwoo’s ear down to the jut of a clavicle, then further south to close around a nipple. 

He breathes out at the sensation, air leaving his lungs in a thin stream. 

It’s been so long since he’s felt this, and it’s not so much the sex that he’s missed, it’s…well, it might be best to not admit the truth here. 

Jaehyun plays him like a fiddle, knowledge gathered over three years of dating proving invaluable as he closes his free hand around the base of Jungwoo’s cock. The sudden shock of pleasure has Jungwoo’s eyes flying open, focusing on nothing in the darkness as a single drag up his length has his toes curling. 

“You were always so easy to rile up,” Jaehyun murmurs against his ear, the pressure around Jungwoo’s throat easing up just a little. 

Enough for Jungwoo to reply with a quiet, “Yeah, just for you.”

Jaehyun sighs, lips brushing the shell of Jungwoo’s ear, but says nothing else. 

Then he pulls back, reaches across the bed to open a drawer, and takes out what Jungwoo assumes to be lube.

“How do you know there’s lube inside?”

“This is Johnny’s place,” Jaehyun replies, tossing the packet onto the bed. “He’s a healthy, good-looking young man who just so happens to be single.”

Jungwoo snorts. Okay, fair point. 

The bed dips and Jungwoo barely has any time to figure out what’s going on when Jaehyun takes him down his throat. Without anything keeping him quiet, a moan slips out and fills the room – Jaehyun’s grip around his thighs tighten in response and he pulls off just to swipe his tongue over where precome beads. 

It’s good, so good, and Jungwoo buries a hand in Jaehyun’s hair, back bowing off the bed when Jaehyun sinks back down. 

He fumbles for the lube, hands sweeping across the sheets until one comes into contact with the foil. Jaehyun meets him halfway, reaching up for the packet just as Jungwoo leans up to pass it over. 

“I don’t have a condom,” Jaehyun whispers, words loud in the silence of the night. “I can still get you off, though.”

Oh. 

“Have you –?”

Jungwoo feels the ghost of a kiss on the inside of his thigh, right where a freckle should be. 

“No.”

Relief floods his veins, so cathartic that he feels pinpricks in the corners of his eyes. He stares up at the ceiling and counts to three.

“Neither have I.”

The packet is ripped open, and within seconds Jungwoo feels cold gel smeared across his entrance. The bed dips again and Jaehyun’s figure looms into view, one hand planted by Jungwoo’s head to hold his weight up while the other disappears between Jungwoo’s legs. 

When Jaehyun leans in, it occurs to Jungwoo that despite having a fingertip smoothing out lube around his goddamn entrance, they haven’t yet kissed. They probably shouldn’t, logically speaking, but when the tips of their noses brush, Jungwoo’s already flimsy resolve shatters into a pile by his feet. 

He holds Jaehyun close with both hands around his jaw and kisses him, nipping at Jaehyun’s bottom lip before opening up and letting Jaehyun in. Fuck, kissing him has always one of Jungwoo’s favourite things to do, and when Jaehyun licks in, borderline filthy, he is reminded of why.

Then a finger slips inside him and he breaks the kiss for a much-needed intake of air. 

It’s uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt as much as he’d expected after such a long time. Jaehyun distracts him from the stretch, mouth demanding attention as fingers drift down to tweak at a nipple. Jungwoo digs his heels into the bed and welcomes it all, moans into the little space between them when a second finger eases in and Jaehyun crooks the digits to find the spot that makes his breath hitch. 

“Jae –” 

“Yeah, Woo, I know.”

Jaehyun makes quick work of prepping him, too well-tuned to Jungwoo’s body to know when he’s ready for another finger. When he pulls three out and moves to line himself up, Jungwoo locks his ankles behind the small of Jaehyun’s back and guides him home. 

The stretch is delicious, Jaehyun groaning as he bottoms out and Jungwoo shuddering when he does. His hands are pinned above his head and their fingers thread together instinctively, and the only warning Jungwoo gets before Jaehyun starts moving is a squeeze to his waist. 

Jaehyun sets a good pace and all of Jungwoo’s senses fixate on the push and pull of Jaehyun inside him, of the way Jaehyun had tucked his face into the crook of his neck, cheek to cheek. He grinds up into each thrust, accidentally biting down on Jaehyun’s shoulder when the head of Jaehyun’s cock skates over his prostate and sends thrills bolting down his spine. 

“Still like leaving marks?”

“That was an accident,” Jungwoo gasps, arching up into Jaehyun. 

“Mm, I don’t mind if you want to leave marks.” He lets go of Jungwoo’s hands and thumbs at the swell of Jungwoo’s lip. “In fact, please do.”

Without any warning whatsoever, Jaehyun rocks back, pulls Jungwoo’s hips flush against his, and nearly bends the younger in half. With his knees against his ribs and Jaehyun’s entire frame right over him, Jungwoo clutches on for dear life. Each snap of Jaehyun’s hips has him dragging lines down Jaehyun’s back, nails leaving skin blooming red and hot, and he loses himself to the pleasure.

“Harder,” he pleads, and Jaehyun answers with a messy kiss and a flurry of thrusts that has the headboard rattling against the wall. The underside of his cock rubs up against the taut plane of Jaehyun’s stomach and Jungwoo swears he stops breathing. 

Then Jaehyun dips down, and it’s the sensation of teeth grazing over his pulse point that tips Jungwoo over the edge. His orgasm smashes into him like a freight train and Jungwoo moans right into Jaehyun’s ear. That, apparently, has Jaehyun losing his composure, and through the haze of his own release, Jungwoo feels Jaehyun spill inside him. 

They don’t move for what feels like eons, foreheads pressed together as they share the same air. 

Jungwoo sets a trembling hand on Jaehyun’s chest. 

“You smell the same,” he says, focusing on the beat of Jaehyun’s heart underneath his palm. More specifically, he smells like the cologne Jungwoo always buys for him.

“No reason to change.”

They’re both pretty sober at this point, which means they’re encroaching on dangerous territory. Jungwoo knows he’s nowhere near being ready for whatever Jaehyun would want to talk about – because that’s what Jaehyun does, he likes to talk about things. Jungwoo, on the other hand, doesn’t. 

Jungwoo exhales, fingers curling into a loose fist. 

He should move, clean himself up and head home. He’s so sleepy, but he knows it’ll be a disaster if he fell asleep in Johnny’s guest bedroom after all this. 

But then Jaehyun brushes hair out of his face and cups the base of his head with a hand – how can he leave now? He lets Jaehyun kiss him and he kisses right back, lets Jaehyun kiss him until all he can think of is what they once were. 

It’s not until they shift and Jaehyun slips out of him that Jungwoo pulls away. 

“I should go.”

Jaehyun doesn’t try to convince him otherwise. Instead, they gather their clothes and make their way to the bathroom together, where they clean themselves up in silence. 

“How are you getting home?”

It’s two in the morning, cabs are probably nowhere to be found in this area and public buses come at such long intervals that he’s better off walking home. 

“I’ll probably walk.”

Jungwoo pulls on his jeans, hyper-aware of how sore he already feels. 

“Text me when you get home.”

Ah. He’d deleted Jaehyun’s number. “Okay, I will.” He still remembers it by heart though. 

Jaehyun walks him to the door and Jungwoo looks around the living room to see multiple bodies out cold. Is that Taeyong literally sleeping on Doyoung? Yuta with his head on the floor and legs on the armchair? 

“Goodnight,” Jungwoo says, stepping into his shoes. “It’s…good to see you again.”

He takes two steps, then stops when a hand closes around his wrist. He doesn’t look back at Jaehyun nor does Jaehyun say anything – a couple of seconds later, Jaehyun lets him go. 

  
Over the next few days, Jungwoo stands in front of his floor-length mirror after his showers and traces over the few love bites scattered across his body and the faint bruises left on his hips. When they inevitably fade, Jungwoo finds himself mourning their disappearance. 

Apart from a short text to Jaehyun letting him know he made it home safe, they haven’t spoken since. Jungwoo’s been replaying the night over and over again in his mind and it’s driving him up the wall – he ends up spending longer hours at work just to distract himself.

It works, if only because he tires himself out to the point where he simply can’t stay awake long enough to ruminate on the past. 

  
It’s a couple of months after that night when someone knocks on his front door. Jungwoo looks up from the television screen and frowns. All of his friends know that he doesn’t like it when people visit unannounced, not to mention the fact that it’s nearly midnight on a Saturday; who the hell would be here knocking on his door? 

He opens the door, eyebrows rocketing up into his hairline when he sees Jaehyun standing on the other side, hair mussed and cheeks tinged pink from the wind. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in the vicinity and I just –” Jaehyun shrugs. “Wound up here. I didn’t expect the concierge to still remember me.”

Jungwoo takes a step back and opens his door just a little wider. “It’s hard to forget you.”

He trails after Jaehyun as the man walks through the living room, glancing around before stopping at the large windows overlooking the city. 

“You didn’t really change much to the place.”

“I like it as it is,” Jungwoo says, stopping at the small bar in the corner of the room (that Jaehyun had installed) to fix them both a drink. His gut is telling him that he’ll probably need a drink for whatever’s about to happen.

Jaehyun accepts the proffered drink. “But you took all the photos down.”

“There was no way for me to move on otherwise. I wouldn’t expect you to still have photos of us displayed either.”

The edge of Jaehyun’s lips quirk, but he simply takes a sip of his drink instead of replying. Jungwoo watches Jaehyun’s throat work and has to tear his gaze away before their eyes meet. 

Then Jaehyun says, “Did it work?”

“What?”

“Did you move on?”

Jungwoo stares, mouth agape. Is this really happening?

When he doesn’t answer Jaehyun’s question, Jaehyun looks over at him and goes, “I’m asking because I tried to, but I didn’t.”

Jungwoo needs to sit down. All he had planned to do tonight was binge-watch a shitty show and maybe eat half a pint of ice cream, not get into this conversation with his ex-boyfriend that he’s probably (definitely) still in love with. 

Jaehyun drains the rest of his drink and strides up to where Jungwoo is standing (hiding?) behind the bar. 

“I tried. I went on a few dates with a couple of people, took them home, but –”

Jungwoo, praying that his expression remains impassive and neutral when all he’s feeling is a ball of fiery jealousy, says, “But?”

“But they weren’t you.”

“You told me you haven’t slept with anyone since.”

“And I haven't, up to this day. I took them home, but even just kissing them took so much out of me.” He drags a hand through his hair, sighs. “Always ended up asking them to leave before anything happened.”

Jungwoo pours himself a shot of vodka and takes it. 

“Jaehyun, what are you saying?”

There’s a pregnant pause where neither one speaks, then Jaehyun exhales and returns to his recently vacated spot by the windows. He stands there, forearm braced against the glass as he stares out at the passing cars. 

Jungwoo studies the other man’s profile, takes in the tense set of his jaw and the hint of a furrow between his brows. He walks over to Jaehyun’s side and looks out the window. 

“Do you regret it?”

“Do I regret what? That night at John’s? Of course not.”

“No, not that. Do you regret our break-up?”

Without missing a beat, Jaehyun says, “Yes. Every day. But I think we needed to go through that.”

The stubborn part of Jungwoo’s mind wants to say _we could’ve worked through it together if we tried hard enough_ , but the logical part of his mind knows that Jaehyun is 100% right. 

Dragging his bottom lip through his teeth, he musters up enough courage to say, “It didn’t work for me. I took down our photos and removed them from my phone, but I see your face every night when I go to bed and you’re not there by my side. Every time I’m at the grocery store and I see your favourite cereal, every time your favourite song comes on the radio. I wanted it to work, desperately so, but it didn’t.”

It’s relieving, to get that all out after bottling it up for so long. 

Jaehyun turns towards him, and with a finger under Jungwoo’s chin, Jaehyun guides his face close. Jungwoo could count all of Jaehyun’s lashes at this distance if he so wanted. 

_Don’t do this to me_ , Jungwoo wants to say, but he ends up grabbing a fistful of Jaehyun’s shirt and kissing him instead. 

There, up against the windows, Jaehyun gradually strips Jungwoo of his clothing. Jaehyun spins Jungwoo around and crowds up behind him, fingers of one hand splayed out over Jungwoo’s stomach while the other curls around his throat. Jungwoo lets his head fall back onto Jaehyun’s shoulder, palms flat against the glass and eyes fluttering shut when Jaehyun drops a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

Jaehyun’s warmth and the coolness of the glass clash wonderfully. 

Light from the outside hits the back of his eyelids and Jungwoo wonders if they’re visible from the street. The apartment is high up and angled away from the highway, but there’s always the possibility that someone with incredibly good eyesight would look up and see. 

The thought, along with the thumb working his nipples into stiff peaks and the teeth tugging on his earlobe, has his cock stirring almost immediately. Jaehyun takes his sweet time, not easing up until Jungwoo is physically squirming in his hold, nipples over-sensitive and cock leaking. 

When he shifts, Jungwoo can feel Jaehyun’s erection against his back. He grinds back onto it, wanting it, but Jaehyun stops him with a tighter grip around his neck. 

The hand on his chest finally disappears, but Jungwoo doesn’t get a moment of respite before it returns, this time on his cock. Precome is smeared around the head and down the length and Jungwoo can’t help but buck up into Jaehyun’s fist in search of the pleasure he knows only the person holding him can give. 

If they didn’t share years of history together, Jungwoo would be embarrassed at how quickly it all ends. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to care about his own pleasure, focused entirely on bringing Jungwoo to his peak, and he achieves just that in what seems like minutes. With a gasp lost to the pressure around his neck, Jungwoo spills over Jaehyun’s hand and onto the window, white streaking across the glass like abstract art.

Jaehyun kisses Jungwoo through his orgasm, pulling on his cock to coax out the last few drops before finally letting go. Oxygen flows into his lungs and Jungwoo opens his eyes just in time to see Jaehyun lick a drop of his come off a finger. 

His knees nearly buckle and it’s really only thanks to an arm around his waist that he doesn’t fall. Jaehyun thumbs at Jungwoo’s cheek before stepping back. 

“Come,” he says, and pulls Jungwoo towards the bedroom. 

As Jungwoo tumbles into bed, Jaehyun disappears into the bathroom and Jungwoo hears a cupboard open and close, followed by the rush of water from the faucet. Sounds like home. Weariness suddenly washes over him like the rising tide and Jungwoo fights to keep his eyes open. 

Jaehyun returns with a wet hand towel, and Jungwoo watches through heavy lids as Jaehyun cleans him up, then tucks him in. 

“But you didn’t…”

“Not important,” Jaehyun says, reaching over to turn the lights off. Now, with only the light from the bathroom to illuminate the room, Jaehyun’s face is shrouded in shadows and Jungwoo cannot look into his eyes. “Sleep, Woo.”

The last thing Jungwoo sees before he closes his eyes is Jaehyun walking back into the bathroom. Then he falls into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

  
It’s full-fledged winter, nearly a year since the break-up, by the time Jungwoo gives in to that fucking voice in his head. 

The morning after Jaehyun had appeared at his doorstep, Jungwoo woke up naked in his own bed with the phantom weight of Jaehyun’s lips on his and Jaehyun’s hand around his neck, warm and solid. Grounding. The rest of the apartment was empty – not like Jungwoo had expected otherwise. 

They haven’t met or spoken since, but their friends have somehow gotten wind of whatever transpired between them and Jungwoo’s had to fend off a flood of questions and advice from them. He imagines Jaehyun’s been suffering from the same fate. 

_are you guys back together?_

_you guys should talk it out, don’t let something as foolish as your egos or stubbornness ruin something great_

_do you two have this friends with benefits situation going on? oh i guess it would be more like exes with benefits, huh_

_you won’t be happy with just sex, jungwoo. neither of you would. it’s either you completely move on or you get back together. this won’t be good in the long run._

It’s not that Jungwoo wanted to forget about what happened in the recent months. No, he’s had an insane increase in his workload and it’s tough, juggling all the stress at work and that of his love life. It also doesn’t help that his sister’s suddenly fallen ill and he’s had to care for his nephew a number of times. So he’d pushed everything Jaehyun-related to the back of his mind. 

Now, however, he’s got no impending deadline nor a young child to look after, and he’s finally managed to find time to sort through his thoughts and emotions. Phone in hand, he types out a quick text to the one person he knows he can trust not to spill the beans to anyone, even if his life depended on it. 

He gets the information he needs within minutes.

_this is good woo, i have a good feeling about this. you both love each other, it’s always been that way and it will remain that way. you just need to remember that._

He thanks Doyoung and sinks down onto his couch. It’s too late to go now; he’ll head out tomorrow morning. There’s a documentary playing on the television but Jungwoo doesn’t digest a single thing that the narrator says, too caught up in thinking about what could possibly happen in less than twenty-four hours. It’s their future on the line. 

  
The building isn’t overly fancy, but it’s new and modern and right up Jaehyun’s alley. His hope for a surprise visit is thwarted when the concierge asks him to register as a visitor, but at least he receives confirmation that Jaehyun is indeed home when the concierge calls to announce his presence. 

He fidgets during the entire elevator ride up to the eighteenth floor. The doors slide open and he follows the unit numbers down the left hallway until he arrives at the one he’s looking for. Just as he’s about to knock, the door opens and Jaehyun appears in the gap, looking cosy in sweats and a henley. His hair is unstyled and Jungwoo can tell that he has no plans of stepping out of the apartment today. 

“Hi. I, uh, hope you don’t mind me being here. I got your address from Doie.”

“Of course not. Come in.”

Jaehyun holds out a hand for his coat and Jungwoo gives it to him with a quiet murmur of thanks. 

The first thing Jungwoo sees when he steps inside is the keyboard standing against the far wall. With all the white walls and cream-coloured furniture, the instrument stands out in a splash of black. Jungwoo expected as much though; it’s the same keyboard that once stood in his own living room, after all. Then he sees a suit jacket draped across the back of a chair, a record player displayed by the television, and –

Jungwoo stares, mind blank. 

There, by the side of the record player, is a photograph of them. He remembers the day they took that photo – it was a weekend in June last year when they all gathered to celebrate Donghyuck and Taeil’s birthdays. Taeil has a wooden swing in his home and Jungwoo commandeered it that day, perched on the seat as he nursed a beer and snacked on whatever came his way. Jaehyun came up to him at one point, stood between his legs with a hand on each chain, and Johnny captured the very moment they leaned in for a kiss, identical smiles on their faces. 

“Sorry if the place is a little messy, I didn’t expect any visitors today.” 

Through the rush of blood in his ears, Jungwoo hears Jaehyun moving around in the kitchen behind him. 

“Coffee? I don’t have your favourite though…Oh, but I do have –”

Jungwoo turns around at the pause and sees Jaehyun standing in the doorway with an empty glass in hand. From the way he’s looking just over Jungwoo’s shoulder, he must have figured out what Jungwoo saw. 

Jaehyun clears his throat, head dipping so that hair swept forward to cover his eyes. “It’s one of my favourite pictures.”

Jungwoo doesn’t know what to say. 

“Look,” Jaehyun sighs, twisting around to set the glass down on the kitchen counter. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. That’s not going to change.” He walks towards Jungwoo, then past him, and Jungwoo watches as he picks up the photo frame. 

“Are?”

Jaehyun looks up. “Hm?”

“You said ‘are’.”

He sets the frame back down, thumb sweeping over the glass, over their faces. 

“Yeah, I did.”

Jungwoo’s heart aches. A small, wounded noise escapes him and he nearly trips over the rug when he crosses the distance between them in three strides and all but crashes their mouths together. Jaehyun catches him around the waist, a hand gripping the back of his head to keep him close, and shoves Jungwoo up against the wall behind them. 

“The break-up was a terrible idea,” Jungwoo pants against Jaehyun’s lips, tilting his head to the side to give Jaehyun better access. “Stupid fucking idea, we should never have agreed to it.”

“Still so stubborn,” Jaehyun says, amusement evident in his voice. He bites down on the tendon of Jungwoo’s neck, hard enough to mark. “Always unwilling to give in, always so sure that whatever you wanted was the right choice.”

The wall is uncomfortable against his scapulas but Jungwoo doesn’t care, not when Jaehyun’s apparently intent on kissing the literal life out of him. He pushes on Jaehyun’s chest with his palms, eyes how swollen his lips are, and yanks on the hem of the henley.

“Off.”

“Still so demanding,” Jaehyun smiles, but shrugs out of the henley in an instant. 

“You were stubborn too, you know.” Jungwoo runs a hand down Jaehyun’s chest, fingers hooking into the waistband of his sweats. “We’re both fucking stubborn, that’s why we could never agree on so many things.”

“We agreed on the break-up.”

Jungwoo’s lip curls; he shoves the other towards the couch and Jaehyun goes without a fight, eyes trained on Jungwoo’s face as he stumbles backwards with the momentum. His heels hit the bottom of the couch and he falls back onto it, and Jungwoo steps into the space between his knees. 

“Neither of us are going to change. It’s who we are.”

Quiet, Jaehyun watches as Jungwoo pulls off his sweater and tosses it over his shoulder. 

“It’s who you are, and honestly, you drive me crazy half the time.”

Jaehyun simply smiles again and Jungwoo curses those dimples. 

“You drive me crazy, but you’re still the love of my life. Do I hate that? Maybe a little, honestly, and –”

With a yelp, Jungwoo topples into a heap on Jaehyun’s lap. He gets a slow, open-mouthed kiss, then another one, and another one until he’s up on his knees and pressing as close as he possibly can for more.

“You still talk so much,” Jaehyun says, soft. 

“You said you liked that.”

Gentle hands skim down the sides of his torso, and Jungwoo looks down at the top of Jaehyun’s head as the latter drops a kiss on his chest, right over his heart. 

“I do.”

A hand smooths down over the curve of his ass and even through the thickness of denim, Jungwoo can feel the warmth. He shifts back and Jaehyun lets him, and Jungwoo is very aware of the other’s eyes on him when he gets off the couch and kneels down on the floor. 

“Let me,” he says, reaching for Jaehyun’s waistband. Jaehyun’s eyes flash dark, pupils dilating, and he tilts his hips up to let Jungwoo pull his sweats off. 

The man’s gone without underwear, not that Jungwoo is surprised after having lived together for a year. Besides, it means one less article of clothing to remove. 

Jaehyun’s cock lies flat against his stomach, head flushed and glistening at the tip. Jungwoo wets his lips – despite the couple of trysts that they’ve had recently, Jungwoo hasn’t actually laid eyes on the piece of art that is Jaehyun’s naked body until now. He’s as beautiful as Jungwoo remembers, all smooth skin and toned muscles, the base of his cock framed by neatly trimmed hair. 

The rug is soft under his knees and Jungwoo leans in to lick a fat stripe up the side of Jaehyun’s cock, relishing in the sound that punches out of the other’s lungs when he sucks the head into his mouth. 

He pulls off, sets hands on Jaehyun’s thighs, and says, “You said you were the only one who could shut me up.”

Jaehyun reaches down to thumb at the wetness on the side of his mouth and Jungwoo parts his lips to let Jaehyun set the digit on his tongue. He gives it a suck, hums, and looks up at him. 

“Yeah. Still am, hopefully.”

It’s been a while, but Jungwoo brings one of Jaehyun’s hands to the back of his head and shuffles closer. Jaehyun inhales when he kisses the flare of his cockhead and Jungwoo feels the fingers in his hair tighten, then he takes a breath and takes Jaehyun down his throat. 

“Fuck.”

Jungwoo digs nails into the flesh of Jaehyun’s thighs. 

“Are you sure?”

He nods as best as he can with a mouth full of dick. 

“Okay, fuck.”

When Jaehyun starts moving, fucking up into his mouth, Jungwoo shuts his eyes and keeps his throat tense, tongue flat against the fat vein that runs up the underside of Jaehyun’s cock. He’s mapped the line of it so many times with his mouth and hands that he could draw it in his sleep. 

His jaw starts to get sore almost instantly, but the grip Jaehyun has on his hair is hard enough to have his blood singing. Tears fill his eyes and he feels one run down his cheek, and god, he’s missed this. 

He’s missed Jaehyun so much. 

He reaches between his own legs, working at the button and zipper of his jeans to try and get a hand around himself, but before he succeeds, Jaehyun pulls him off his cock and manhandles him up onto the couch.

There’s a split second where they stare at each other, Jungwoo gulping down air as another tear slips free, then Jaehyun’s kissing him and shoving his jeans down past his knees. Jungwoo kicks it off the rest of the way; it falls to the floor in a heap.

“I love you so much,” Jaehyun says, desperate, like he wants to burn the words into Jungwoo’s skin so that he will never forget. “You must know that.”

“I know.” He cups Jaehyun’s face, steals another kiss. His voice is hoarse, but his heart is full. “I’ve always known.”

Jaehyun nods, eyes suspiciously teary, and abruptly stands. “Okay. I’ll be back in a second.”

He heads into the direction of what Jungwoo assumes to be the bedroom and he takes the time to collect himself. They’ve said a lot of words, but nothing that answers the one question he needs to be answered. Jungwoo sits up, rids himself of his underwear, and exhales.

Before anything goes any further, he needs the answer.

Jaehyun returns with lube and their eyes connect over the back of the couch. 

“Be my boyfriend again,” Jungwoo blurts. “Please.”

That has Jaehyun freezing for just a moment before he moves back to Jungwoo’s side. 

“On your knees,” is what he says, and Jungwoo obeys, letting Jaehyun bend him over the armrest. He feels a nip on his ass and he can’t help how he automatically arches his back at the sensation. Thumbs spread him open and Jungwoo cries out in surprise when a tongue swipes over his hole, wetting the furled skin there. One more lick and he shudders, cock so hard he hurts. 

He hears the snick of a bottle opening, then: “I’m still yours. I don’t care if we’re broken-up, I’m still yours.”

“Is that a yes?” He clutches onto the couch’s armrest when cold lube drips down his perineum. 

“Yes,” Jaehyun says. He drops a kiss on the dimple by the side of Jungwoo’s spine. “A million yesses.”

  
Jaehyun’s only two fingers in when Jungwoo decides he doesn’t want to wait anymore.

“Inside,” he rasps, a hand around his dick. “Please, Jae, now.”

“But you’re not –”

“I don’t care. I want to feel it, feel you, want this to be a reminder that we’re idiots who made it home to each other. Please.” He feels like he could cry, and he’s not quite sure why. 

At least Jaehyun doesn’t seem to be putting up a fight. Jungwoo lets out a stream of air in sheer relief when Jaehyun grips him by the hips, the tip of his cock testing the give of Jungwoo’s entrance. 

Jungwoo lets him do that for a couple of seconds before he reaches back himself, holds Jaehyun in place, and pushes back against him. There’s a tiny bit of resistance before Jaehyun slides in, the soft flesh of Jungwoo’s behind flush against Jaehyun’s pelvis. 

“Yes,” Jungwoo slurs, hips rolling in an attempt to get him that much deeper. 

He can feel bruises forming from how hard Jaehyun’s holding onto him, but when Jaehyun suddenly tilts his hips just a fraction higher and drives in with a single, slow thrust, his mind whites out and he forgets all about bruises. The new angle has the head of Jaehyun’s cock hitting solid and bright over his prostate, and Jungwoo can’t stop the moans that tumble out past his lips. 

Jaehyun kisses him on the shoulder, then once on the back of his head, and Jungwoo hangs on for dear life when Jaehyun starts pulling his hips back to meet his thrusts. It’s hard and fast and Jungwoo sees stars, hand dropping away from his cock because he’s simply too far gone to focus on anything else but the way Jaehyun’s giving it to him. 

He cries out with each thrust, the noises disjointed, and Jaehyun murmurs praises that Jungwoo eats up. 

“Come for me, baby.”

Jungwoo comes untouched, Jaehyun’s name on his tongue and etched into every pore on his body. He can feel Jaehyun’s hands roaming up and down his back in an effort to coax him through his release, and his heart skips a beat. It’s real, it’s happening, and he just – ”I love you.”

Jaehyun leans over him to kiss his cheek, the action nudging him a little deeper inside and Jungwoo’s breath catches, toes tingling with all the oversensitivity. Jaehyun’s still hard. 

“Everything happens for a reason, Woo.” Gingerly, he pulls out, and Jungwoo turns over to stare up at him. “When Johnny invited me and said you’d be there, I knew I had to go. I had to take that chance, to see you.”

“I didn’t think _you_ would go,” Jungwoo admits, letting Jaehyun push his knees up to his chest. He’s 99% sure he’s lying on his own come and it feels a little gross, but when Jaehyun eases back inside, he decides that he doesn’t quite care. 

“Why?”

Jaehyun bottoms out and Jungwoo groans, one leg settling atop the back of the couch and the other locking around Jaehyun’s middle. 

“I didn’t –” Jaehyun rolls his hips and Jungwoo chokes on his spit. God, the sensitivity makes this so much better. “I didn’t think you’d want to. See me, I mean.”

With palms on either side of Jungwoo’s head, Jaehyun leans down and kisses him on the forehead, the tip of his nose, his mouth. 

“Glad I proved you wrong.”

Another thrust and Jungwoo’s mouth falls open; Jaehyun nips at his bottom lip and fixes a hand around that slim, elegant neck. Jungwoo loves this, loves it when Jaehyun brushes his thumb over the crest of his Adam’s apple before applying just enough pressure around his neck. It’s a surrender – of control, of trust, of life. He wants to give Jaehyun _everything_. 

When Jaehyun starts moving in earnest once more, the first few slow thrusts escalating rapidly until Jaehyun’s grip is the only thing keeping Jungwoo’s frame from scooting up the couch. Jaehyun fucks into him hard, each snap of his hips sending his cock ghosting over that sweet spot deep inside of him. 

“Jae–” Jungwoo sucks in a shallow breath and scratches down Jaehyun’s flank when a particular thrust has his cock, already half-hard once more, dribbling out precome. 

“Yeah, babe, I’m right here.”

With his cock trapped between their bodies, Jungwoo cannot writhe away from the constant friction. Through swimming vision, Jungwoo watches as pleasure takes over Jaehyun’s handsome features, storing away the look in his eyes for safekeeping. 

It’s too much but not enough at the same time, and when he feels a finger press on where they’re connected, he rockets towards his release with a pinched, desperate whine. His body bends at an impossible angle, cock leaking, and when Jaehyun releases his grip around his neck and he’s finally able to gulp down a lungful of oxygen, he comes with a wail. 

“Fuck, Jungwoo – _fuck_ –”

He feels Jaehyun’s cock pulse from where he’s clenched tight like a vice around him, filling him up, keeping him full. Fighting against his own body, Jungwoo forces his eyes to stay open. He wants to see Jaehyun’s face, the rise and fall of his heaving chest, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. 

As soon as his high starts to fade, Jungwoo reaches up and pulls Jaehyun down onto him. They both groan when the movement has Jaehyun shifting inside of him; carefully, Jaehyun pulls out and settles down. 

They lie there for a long time, catching their breaths, and Jungwoo runs fingertips up and down the curve of Jaehyun’s shoulder. 

“How is this going to work?”

“Well –” Jungwoo winces at how wrecked his voice sounds, and it’s clear that Jaehyun hears it too, if the way he sits up instantly is any indication. 

“I’m going to get you some water,” he says, and Jungwoo is gifted with the sight of Jaehyun walking away, naked like the day he was born. 

He returns with a mug of warm honey water and helps Jungwoo upright before passing it to him. Jungwoo smiles into it as he sips. 

“Take this too.” A painkiller is dropped onto his palm. “Just in case.”

So he does. He cradles the mug between his hands and looks over at Jaehyun, who’s kneeling on the floor, a hand on Jungwoo’s knee. 

“I don’t have a plan,” he says, settling on a whisper until his voice returns. “I just know I want to be with you.”

“Okay. Then we’ll start from the beginning, since this is a second chance. We’ll go on dates, spend time with each other, and fall in love all over again.” 

Jungwoo nods. His skin is tacky with sweat and dried come and his muscles are already sore, but he has never felt this good in months. 

“We’ll do it right this time.” 

They’re cuddled up on the rug (the couch needs some thorough scrubbing), Jungwoo’s head pillowed on Jaehyun’s chest. His stomach is full of honey water and his skin is finally clean, and he’s been tracing over the faint scar on Jaehyun’s ribs that looks like a cloud.

Then something dawns on him and he props himself up on an elbow to look down at the other.

“Why did we not do this –” He waves a hand around, gesturing to the couch and then themselves, “– on a bed?”

“Oh, there aren’t any sheets on my bed, I washed them this – oh fuck, my sheets!”

Jaehyun scrambles upright and bolts off towards the washing machine, sweats slung low on his hips and red lines standing out starkly against his skin, courtesy of Jungwoo’s nails. Jungwoo laughs and falls back onto the rug – some things really never change. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on twitter @_seiros!
> 
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